


The Best Laid Plans of Merlin Oft Go Awry -- Due To Traffic and Gwaine (the Sticky Berry Juice Remix)

by silence_since_silence



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Delays, Disappointment, Drinking, F/F, House Party, In-Laws, Lots of Time to Think, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mass Texting, Modern Era, Nervousness, Plans Getting Cancelled, Secrets, Talk of Vomiting, Taxis, worrying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-02 10:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6563371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silence_since_silence/pseuds/silence_since_silence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Herein are told the events of the day leading up to Arthur's surprise birthday party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 8:48AM Gwaine

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Cranberry Juice Is Sticky, Too](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1188549) by [viennajones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viennajones/pseuds/viennajones). 



> This is my first time participating in the Remix, and I have loved the challenge of creating a new story around viennajones' work. I have to say thanks to the mods for all the effort they put into running this fest -- we know it isn't easy! Also, thanks to [digthewriter](http://archiveofourown.org/users/digthewriter) for throwing a few thoughts my way when I was lost, and thanks to the participants of those word wars for being excited and up for round after round. :)

_Their house. 8 PM. Bring booze. Don’t be stingy – the princess only turns 30 once!_

Gwaine hits send, and the mass text goes out to all of their friends. Only 11 hours and 12 minutes until his brilliant idea comes to fruition. There’s no question that everyone will be there.


	2. 5:30PM Merlin

“I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

“George will let you in.”

Merlin hangs up the phone and leans back in his office chair.

It’s all coming together now.

His heart is thumping hard in his chest.

In just a little while, he will have what he knows means a lot to Arthur. Hopefully he hasn't mistaken how much he himself means to Arthur.

He notices he is a little sweaty under the arms. Maybe he will freshen up at home before they head out to the restaurant. A shower and change of clothes probably won't help, though: Merlin will still be nervous.

He reminds himself that Uther seems happy with the idea. That is rare enough that Merlin is encouraged.

He takes a few deep breaths. His pulse slows by maybe one beat per minute, but he'll take what he can get at the moment.

He leans forward to lock his briefcase, stands up from his chair, puts on his jacket, picks up the briefcase, and walks out of the office.

There are 28 minutes left before he will be at Uther's door.


	3. 6:20PM Merlin

After Merlin meets with Uther and retrieves what he came for – and receives a lot of approving nods and pats on the shoulder from Uther that he didn’t expect at all, – he has just over an hour left before he and Arthur are supposed to be at the restaurant. Arthur will be waiting.

George sees Merlin out and whispers an unexpected “good luck” before he closes the front door.

Merlin turns his back to the house to watch the taxi that is already rolling up the gravel driveway. It approaches where Merlin is waiting at the door under the portico. When it is close enough to walk toward, Merlin leaves his spot in the comfortably dry doorway. His head and shoulders are wet after two steps beyond the roof line, and Merlin is happy to exchange the unwanted natural shower for the shelter and dry fold-down seats of the cab.

They’re on their way in a matter of seconds.

Merlin can feel his nerves settling in again, except this time he is also shivering slightly.


	4. 7:28PM Merlin

“Yes, hi. I’m calling about my reservation.”

“What’s the name, please?”

“It’s under Emrys.”

“Yes, Mr. Emrys, we have you down for two at 7:30. Is that correct?”

“Yes, but I’m stuck in this awful traffic up by Roehampton. There’s no way I’ll be there in time at this rate. Do you have any openings for later?”

“The earliest we have is a 9:45.”

“Wow…. Um, okay, can you just take me off your list, then?”

“Of course, sir.”

“Okay, great.”

“Thank you for calling to let us know. We hope you’ll come dine with us soon.”

“Okay, ‘bye.”

“Have a good evening, sir.”

The line goes silent, and Merlin turns to stare out the window. The only things around him – besides other cars alternately stopped and crawling at a sloth’s pace along the road – are trees. There isn’t even a house close enough to the road to see the roof of.

Merlin knows this is an illusion of isolation; the uni is only a few minutes ( _without_ traffic) behind him. However, as it has been over an hour since he left Uther’s and he isn’t even halfway home yet, he feels justified in allowing his imagination to pretend he is in the distant past on a long journey through a forest.

He closes his eyes.

If he were on a journey through a forest, he would be with Arthur. He and Arthur would ride horses by day to get around, and they would camp next to a roaring fire and under the same blanket by night. They would be going to rescue someone, or they would be coming back from a daring adventure. Merlin would have to keep Arthur in check, because Arthur would always be the one insisting on these daring adventures in the first place.

Merlin smiles. He feels calm for the first time all day. It’s amazing that thinking about what he loves about Arthur has that effect on him.

Merlin opens his eyes.

The presence of rows of unmoving cars sort of ruins the effect.

At least Merlin can see that they’ll soon be changing roads. They’re about ten cars from the turn.

Merlin’s right hand drums a pattern from pinky to thumb across his knee.

He wonders why Arthur has not called him to ask why Merlin is late. He wonders if he should call Arthur.

A toddler in the window of the next car makes wide eyes at him when their eyes meet. Merlin waits for her to look away before he does.

He hopes traffic will clear up soon so that he can get home soon. He thinks maybe he can set up a romantic dinner for Arthur using something they already have in the house.

His nerves mount because of the amount of time he has to himself to do nothing else but stare out at the traffic or think over what he is going to say to Arthur.

He refuses to look at his watch so soon after his phone conversation, but the meter in front of him still catches his eye every time he turns in his seat.

He remembers that there might be some candles in the catch-all drawer in the kitchen.

The cab driver isn’t particularly talkative at this point; the two of them already exhausted the conversation topics Merlin wanted to reply to within the first hour.

Merlin’s leg jiggles with built-up energy. He checks the zipper pocket of his briefcase to make sure the ring box is still there.

With the briefcase on his lap and his hand inside to check on the ring, he thinks, _might as well get some work done to pass the time_. He pulls out a file he didn’t expect to look at until morning and starts to read.


	5. 9:36PM Party

As soon as Merlin and Arthur show their faces back downstairs, the entire room shouts “Happy Birthday!” at Arthur for the second time that night. This time, though, Mithian is holding a red sheet cake with lit candles in it.

“That had better be dark chocolate with strawberry cream and real strawberries as the filling,” Arthur says. He turns to Morgana with an assessing gaze.

Morgana rolls her eyes.

Mithian draws out, “Only the best for you, Arthur,” until her sarcasm is dripping from every vowel.

Arthur leans down to blow out the candles while Merlin laughs and adds, “I think you mean “Your Highness,” Mith. Nothing but his true title will satisfy—”

“OH MY GOD!” Gwaine exclaims. “You’re ENGAGED!”

It’s an effective way to cut off Merlin’s teasing, because his mouth clicks shut.

“…What?” asks Elena.

“Look! There’s a ring hiding under Arthur’s sweater! Just there!” Gwaine points out the hint of a bulge from halfway across the room.

Everybody else silently strains to see it for a second, but Arthur, off his game possibly due to the distraction of cake, covers the spot with his hand.

“Well, that didn’t last long,” Merlin says quietly to Arthur. Louder, he says, “Gwaine, how is it possible that you _of all people_ saw that from halfway across the room in your state?! Not even half an hour ago you were rushing past us to throw up in the bathroom!”

“My brilliant observational skills, mate!”

Morgana clears her throat to get the attention on her. “Yes, yes, congratulations. Honestly, it’s about time. Now let’s eat this cake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morgana secretly loves that kind of cake, too. :D
> 
> Thanks for reading! If anyone wants to know the exact timeline I created around the original story, I have _extensive_ notes for you.  <3


End file.
